GojyoHakkai. Mistakes, and the things we learn from them.
When the curried chicken came out black and gritty and Gojyo was cursing and scraping it out of the pan he realized that this meant that Hakkai hadn't eaten for the same amount of time that he had been living off of leftovers. And that just made the guilt hit home.
Dumping the pot into the sink with a clatter, he stalked back to the closed and locked door of Hakkai's bedroom and slid down the wall to sit beside it.
"Hey Hakkai," he tried, expecting no response and getting none.
How was he supposed to have known what that woman had looked like? How was he supposed to have known that this woman he had taken home for the night looked just like her? How was he supposed to have known that asking Hakkai if he would like to join him when he walked in on them would send him off the deep end? How was he supposed to have remembered to lock the door, for that matter, when he was smashed and bringing a woman home?
Why was he supposed to abstain from life on the rainy nights that left Hakkai deathly pale and shivering?
But he thought all of this for the millionth time without anger. He hated it when Hakkai got the shakes, even if it meant he didn't have to fight with all that "I'm fine" bullshit because Hakkai would lock himself in his room.
It just didn't usually last this long.
He knew that Hakkai hadn't left his room yet in three days because he had taken to having conversations with the unyeilding door as he leant back against it, a beer can or five by one hand and an ashtray by the other. He had dozed off in that spot, and had woken undisturbed when the sun came up.
Patting his pockets, Gojyo thankfully found a half-full packet of cigs in his jacket and pulled one out before realizing he had left his lighter on the kitchen table. Pulling the cylander back out from between his lips, he sighed in fustration.
"Hey Hakkai," he said again, as if addressing a diary. "It's still raining, but you probably know that, hunh?"
It had been raining for a long time now, and Gojyo had come to think that maybe it was just raining because of Hakkai. It was as good a reason as any.
"You know I'm sorry, right?"
The words punched their way out of his mouth before he could stop them. Hair dropping in front of his eyes like rivers of blood, he reached over to punch the door in fustration and hit air.
Looking up sharply, the first thing he noticed was that Hakkai wasn't wearing his glasses. The second was that he was soaking wet.
"Fuck, Hakkai, what were you-"
He was still scrambling to his feet when Hakkai, still smiling, shut his eyes and fell forward in a dead faint.
He was freezing cold when Gojyo dumped him in the shower and started stripping him down. A quick glance had told him why: the large window, the reason why Hakkai had wanted that room (/'To watch the sunrises'/, with a smile), was wide open and the rain was pounding in, soaking the entire room.
The hot water was helping return the circulation to Hakkai's extremities, and Gojyo was oddly thankful that the healer had taught him a few basic first-aid things. Massaging those hands that had hovered over his headaches, cuts, bruises and miscelanious ills, he wondered which had been worse: finding a bloody-haired man fucking a woman that looked like his sister, or finding out that this bloody-haired man wouldn't mind fucking you too?
If it really got down to it, Gojyo thought, chuckling a little sadly at himself, he would rather be fucked by Hakkai than fucking him.
It was then that Hakkai awoke, gasping and choking a little on the warm water.
"Gojyo," he croaked before the man realized that one could drown in hot water as easily as cold water.
"Shit, sorry Hakkai," he replied, awkwardly wrapping an arm around softer shoulders, lifting the oddly weak form until it rested against the tile wall. He couldn't meet those green eyes, so he just focused on getting out of there as soon as possible.
"I'll just go, then..."
He was practically scrambling for the door when a wet fist clenched in his damp pant leg, oddly demanding.
"Gojyo," that voice said seriously and he froze, fustrated and angry with himself to no end, before pulling away.
"Later," he replied roughly before abruptly shutting the door behind him.
All his brain could think was: /Shit/.
It didn't need to be said that Hakkai came out of the shower looking much better than he had going into it, curled in multiple layers of both his own and Gojyo's clothing. It took a good few hours of team cooking and a few drinks for Hakkai to convince Gojyo that he was alright. It took a kiss to convince him that he didn't hate him. It took a blush and fidgety hands kept close to their owner's body to convince Hakkai that the red-head was truely sorry.
And then life went on from there.